


Eyeliner, and some sparkle

by Anonymous



Series: Short YOI fills [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Background Relationships, Comfort, Crying, Friendly Rivalry, Friendship, M/M, Makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 20:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13959330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Of course. Minami’s coach was the one who’d had the asthma attack the day before — who’d been carted from the practice sessions in an ambulance, and replaced by an assistant. An assistant who was nowhere to be seen.“What happened?” asked Yuuri, although he feared he knew, and he couldn’t bring Odagaki-sensei back from hospital to help.“I—” Minami began, sniffling. “I can’t do my makeup.”





	Eyeliner, and some sparkle

The sound of sobbing was given a slight echo by the tiled surfaces in the toilets; Yuuri paused, waited, and wondered if he should do something about it. Frankly, he was surprised that he wasn’t the one crying in the men’s bathrooms. Nationals had seemingly been cursed from day one, and he felt itchy under his skin being without Victor. 

He should probably do something. The crying wasn’t abating. If anything, it was progressing to the hysterical hiccuping stage, which Yuuri knew from experience was uncomfortable and hard to shake. 

“Hello?” Yuuri asked, tapping gently on the door to the cubicle. “Are you all right?” 

“Yuuri?” asked a small voice, and then the door opened. Minami’s cheeks were practically as red as the red streak in his hair, and he had eyeliner smudged on his temples, cheeks, hands, and, improbably, his chin. His chin wobbled, and he looked like he was about to cry again; he threw himself forward, and Yuuri suddenly found himself in the grip of a very awkward and somewhat tearful hug. 

Of course. Minami’s coach was the one who’d had the asthma attack the day before — who’d been carted from the practice sessions in an ambulance, and replaced by an assistant. An assistant who was nowhere to be seen. 

“What happened?” asked Yuuri, although he feared he knew, and he couldn’t bring Odagaki-sensei back from hospital to help. 

“I—” Minami began, sniffling. “I can’t do my makeup.” 

That was not the answer Yuuri had been expecting. 

“What?” 

“I know it’s stupid,” said Minami. “But my coach always does it, and Nakamura-sensei said he… he didn’t know how. And I tried but I… I look like a panda.” He sucked in a trembling breath. “I just want to make her proud.” 

The _her_ was Minami’s coach. Yuuri closed his eyes, thinking of what Victor might do in this situation, and of what Yuuri might do if it were Victor in hospital, unable to be rinkside, unable to help. This separation was bad enough, without adding the spectre of illness as well. 

“All right,” said Yuuri, as the call for the next group of skaters went through. “We’ve got half an hour before the final, don’t we?” 

Minami nodded into Yuuri’s shoulder. 

“Victor usually does my makeup,” said Yuuri, patting Minami in a way he hoped was comforting. “But before Victor, I did my own. What were you looking for? What look?” 

“You haven’t seen my programs this season?” asked Minami, and oh no, that had been a terrible mistake — Yuuri panicked a little. 

“Just let me help you!” he snapped, and Minami wilted back into himself. “Wait. Let me help. I don’t have the look in my head right now, because I’m focussed on my own performance, and on Vitya… on his performance. Because he and I…” Barely, he realised that he was straying towards startled oversharing. “We worked out his makeup.” All right, not too much detail. No-one else deserved the sweep of Victor’s pale eyelashes, his beautiful and trusting face as he let Yuuri try out new looks on him until they were both happy with the final result.

“It’s for my free skate. The boogie,” said Minami. “It’s — eyeliner, and some sparkle.” 

Yuuri thought about it, and it brought an image to mind. “Do you have your kit?” 

“It’s by the basins.” 

“All right.” 

Yuuri squirmed out of Minami’s arms, and then dragged him out of the cubicle and into the harsh light of the bathroom mirrors. Minami obeyed Yuuri’s commands — wash your hands, wash your face, dry, blow your nose — and then closed his eyes obediently as Yuuri used the foundation in his kit to cover over the red blotches on his pale cheeks, the puffiness under his eyes, his sore-looking eyelids. 

“You don’t have to do this,” said Minami, as Yuuri blended blush on the back of his hand before applying it. 

“I know,” said Yuuri. “But I want to. If Japan gets two slots for the Olympics, I want the second one to be you.” 

“Really?” asked Minami, opening his eyes. 

Yuuri held him back from what looked like the beginnings of another tackle-hug. “Don’t smudge it,” he warned. “Now. Close your eyes.” 

Minami wasn’t like Victor. He trembled and flinched at the first touch of any brush or pencil. Yuuri completed what he remembered of the look Minami had used for their last competition against one another, and then decided it wasn’t enough. Minami needed something to help him be confident. 

“What are you doing?” Minami asked, as Yuuri loaded up some of the glittering gold shadow onto a powder brush. “That’s not…” Yuuri swept the brush across his cheekbones. 

“I want to try something,” said Yuuri. “I think you’ll look good.” 

“Okay.” The swift acquiescence bothered Yuuri a bit, but he swept and dabbed until he was happy. It was the sort of glitzy that Yuuri could never get away with, but it matched Minami’s cheerful skate. 

“Open your eyes,” said Yuuri. 

“That’s…” Minami sounded choked. “Oh. It looks…wow.” 

“Don’t cry, or you’ll have to do it again,” said Yuuri. 

The loudspeaker hummed out the start of the next section of the competition. They’d both have to go. Yuuri put his hands on Minami’s shoulders, turned him. 

“How can I thank you?” Minami breathed, possibly a little too intensely. 

“Win silver,” said Yuuri. “Because I want you next to me on that podium.” 

Minami looked at him, sly. “If I win gold, I’ll still be next to you,” he said. 

Yuuri caught his gaze. He wasn’t crying anymore — he was gold-dusted and ready to go. 

“You’re on,” he said. “But you’ll have to fight me for it.” 

Minami nodded. “The challenge will be an honour,” he said, and they shook hands, like it was a deal, and then went out to face each other on the ice.


End file.
